Requiem for a Stinky Boy

I loved him from the first moment I laid eyes on him, in the birthday box smelling like baby powder. He fit in my palm, a soft bundle of  little grey tabby -all ears and tail and boundless energy. As he curled up and slept where I held him lightly to my chest, I fell deeper in love. He became my furry son.

His name was Stinky. Before you judge me, know that he actually chose this. I tried every interesting name I could think of but he wouldn't respond to any of them. Then one day, after he took one of his famous nature breaks, I passed by the litter box and exclaimed, "Oh my GOD! That's so stinky!" He stopped in mid-trot, turning to look at me. "Is that the name you want?" I asked incredulously. I tested it out a little later, calling him by that name, and there he was, trotting toward me from some corner he was exploring. He responded to Stinky for the 18 years he honored me with his company.

He's been with me for every day after that, barring that terrible night he stayed over at the vet's after being neutered. He's curled up next to be and slept, soundly snoring. We've played hide and seek; he's sunk his teeth into me a few times; we stared out the window together, each in our own reveries. He took my papers hostage, terrorized some of my friends, hid all my hair accessories, and faced the many changes in our loves with me.

Two weeks ago, life happened. He had been acting increasingly unsettled and meowing mournfully, so I decided to let him go outside which he'd done only a few times in his life. He was an indoor cat; but he would explore the world close to home, on occasion, and come back a few hours later. He hasn't been home since. 

I have been struggling with emotions of guilt and torment, resignation and acceptance. If I had not let him out, he would be still with me. Yet, I did not want to keep him prisoner, since it seemed he longed for freedom. Possibly one last hoorah. I have been praying that he hasn't suffered. That he's found the freedom he sought. That he is where he wants to be and he's happy. Yet, I ache for him, and the pain overtakes me. He was the last of my family, and I have been mourning for his loss.

Today, I celebrate his life. He was a splendid boy. Mischievous, funny, smart and loving. No one could have asked for a better son. And today, I take the time to honor him wherever he roams.

I love you Stinky. Thank you for being in my life.